


Spontaneity

by Measured



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Being Walked In On, Biting, Desk Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Scratching, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:22:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1819966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/pseuds/Measured
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She undid the first button of her lavender blouse. His eyes widened, his mouth agape, a <i>ablubboob</i> noise at the back of his throat. She shook her chest a little, just to keep his gaze on her and undid another button.</p><p>"Is this spontaneous enough for you?" Miss Pauling said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spontaneity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RAXip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAXip/gifts).



> Loosely based on [this confession](http://dirtytf2confessions.tumblr.com/post/52091626065/the-idea-of-miss-pauling-deciding-to-give-scout-a). Established relationship after Expiration Date. Part of an art trade with Multiversecafe. She was nice enough to beta it as well.

He spun around in the chair and moved himself back as she walked in. "So, mother's day is comin' up, right? I was thinkin' of gettin' ma flowers, but that jerkass will just go on and buy out a whole flowershop and I'll hear 'oh, nice of you to send me roses, honey, but I had to throw them away to make room for more flowers from _him_.' Think you can help me out a bit?"

She hung her dark, thick coat on the rack near the door.

"Scout, women aren't this special brotherhood–or I should say sisterhood–I haven't spent that much time with her, so I can't say exactly what she'd like."

"So, pretend you're my ma for a minute—"

"This just made last night when you kissed me at the door a whole lot more awkward," she said.

He snickered. "Oh man, does it ever. Okay, pretend you're _a_ mom for a minute."

"I'd be throwing the pregnancy test at you, and you're on the couch," she said. 

"Bet I'm on the couch forever," he said, folding his hands behind his neck as he pushed himself back in the chair.

"Not forever. Just a long time. A _very_ long time," she said.

"Do you at least come and visit me on the couch?" Scout said.

"To watch Star Trek reruns. We watch them together even when we're fighting," she said with a soft sigh.

"Aw yes, the baby gets its start early as a Star Trek fan," Scout said. He grinned, and leaned in. Hypothetical pregnancies aside, he moved on. "But, anyways, what would _you_ want in this?"

She looked up, a little annoyed, but he was too cute to stay irritated at for long. Even if he was incredibly persistent and liked to complicate her life. It was a fun complication which meant she tasted danger a whole lot more. The thing was, she loved it.

"I'd have my eye on the latest gun, though what I'd really want was some time off. I'm not sure you could manage that for me, though," she said.

"Time off, huh?" Scout steepled his fingers. He had several band-aids over his fingertips, making her think he must have tried to cook again recently. The fact that his red shirt had a new assortment of stains on it only furthered her suspicions. Apparently the finished product hadn't been edible, otherwise he'd be trying to get her to eat it and puffing himself up about what a romantic, great boyfriend he was.

"I guess I could try and ask them to swap me out. Thanks, Miss Pauling! So, about this weekend—"

"Sorry, I'm working late," she said.

"Early, then?" he said.

"I am just going to be swamped redoing all those data file dump with the Engineer, and–"

"Yeah, Yeah... I got it," he said. "Probably can't even make it tonight. I swear, I gotta book three weeks in advance to even share a minute with you. You're like one of those super high class restaurants with a huge waitin' list that kick guys like me to the curb."

"You knew that it'd be like this when we started—"

"Yeah, I know. It just sucks when I try and get somethin' spontaneous goin' and you never have time," he said.

She furrowed her brow. "I'm not boring. I know I'm a pencil pusher and a workaholic, but that doesn't mean—"

He cut her off, waving his hands in front of his face in an emphatic gesture.

"I didn't say that! You're a lot of things. You're cute as hell, you're strong and smart and capable as can be, but last time I finally got you out for some fun, you took a frickin' map along," he said. 

"Well, _excuse me_ for not wanting to get lost and eaten by bears," she said.

"But, face it, you can't change your workaholic thing if you tried. You ain't got a spontaneous bone in your body. Without me around, you'd pretty much just work all day and night, only stoppin' to, like, eat and stuff. And even that's a maybe, because I _know_ you skipped breakfast a time or two."

She lifted her index finger up, trying to figure out some comeback, but then left her hand fall to her side again. He was entirely right, even if she didn't want to admit it. She looked behind her as the impetuous, foolhardy plan came to her mind. He was rubbing off on her more than even she know.

_Oh, you want spontaneous, do you?_

Miss Pauling flipped the lock on the door. She undid the first button of her lavender blouse. His eyes widened, his mouth agape, a _ablubboob_ noise at the back of his throat. She shook her chest a little, just to keep his gaze on her and undid another button.

"Is this spontaneous enough for you?" Miss Pauling said.

"Thought you're workin' late," he finally managed to gasp out.

"I'll just say my last burial went long," she said.

She cocked her hip and began to shift slowly. It wasn't quite a dance, but she had his attention. She had to bite back the instant thought of _I look ridiculous_. He certainly seemed entertained. Then again, he'd probably like her even if she wore a burlap bag.

She leaned down, and he clutched at her shirt as she kissed him. Buttons ripped as the shirt fell open.

"That's coming out of your paycheck," she said.

"God, I'll buy you ten shirts if I get to rip 'em off you, I don't care," Scout said. 

He slipped his fingers teasingly into her bra, pulling her closer for a better look. The chair rolled back as she climbed up in his lap. Her lavender flowing skirt was hiked up to her hips, but he took advantage of the chance to hike it up further. 

"Hands up," she said.

"Cops and robbers roleplay?" Scout said eagerly.

"Maybe next time," she said.

She peeled away his shirt, and tossed it aside. She let it fall to the floor and didn't even bend to pick it up and fold it, like last time. And not just because he teased her about it, either.

"Damn, you're playing hardball," he said. He slipped his fingers into her underwear and began rolling them down to her thighs. She grabbed at his waistband and tugged him nearer.

"Hurry up," she said, breaking off in a moan as she arched up, up to him. 

"Hey, bein' a sex master _takes time_ ," Scout said.

"I don't have time," she said. She ground against the bulge in his pants. Pens pushed off to drop on the floor. She'd already moved her papers and typewriter. Maybe deep down she'd known it was only a matter of time before he had her fucking in public. He was trying to refine himself into some kind of gentleman, but he'd never rub away the roughness. She wouldn't have it any other way.

He'd ripped her stockings on the way down, and had her panties down on the floor in seconds. She let out a happy sigh as he pushed into her. She felt a pen digging into her back, but the discomfort was another contrast reminding her of how good it felt. She raked her nails down his back hard enough to leave marks, hard enough to feel him shudder above her. His weight pushed her down to the hard, cold surface of the desk. Every second, every move of him into her left her aware that everything could quite literally come crashing down at any second. It made each stolen kiss that much sweeter.

The last pen shifted away as she moved up to sink her teeth into whatever she could reach. She bit down hard enough to leave the imprint there, a reminder with his scratches, his hickies and lipstick marks. He shivered, moaning her name.

"Frickin' damn," he gasped as she pushed down on his shoulders, taking control away from him even when he was on top.

The door rattled.

They both looked back in horror. He was covered in violent violet kiss marks all over his neck, chest and face. He was still deep inside her, and oh god, this was the best worst idea she'd ever had. She'd locked it, but some asshole assistant must have a key.

_"Hurry."_

He slipped off the desk, quick enough that they barely parted. Huddled against the desk, he barely dared move, but he'd pushed in deep with a perfect pressure. She wrapped her legs about his hips, and quickly covered his mouth with her hand to stifle his moan.

The door opened. "Miss Pauling?" 

Which assistant was that again? Whoever they were, they were dead the minute she found them. The rage of the interruption melded to a pure, perfect high. She bit her lip so hard she could taste blood. Blood was pounding in her head with the sort desperate excitement she'd never felt with other guys. She couldn't stop moving and grinding herself against him as the absurdity of the situation, the sheer _danger_ left her tingly and more turned on than ever. Already she could feel warm, clenching pleasure coursing through her. A little whimper escaped, and she pulled him into a kiss to silence him.

The door closed, but she kept on rolling her hips against him, guiding him just right, so he thrust deeper and deeper. She bit at his lips, tasting both his blood and hers as they kissed with enough force to almost keep them quiet. The pleasure arced, heated throb of him and her so tight together until everything was quiet in her head and all she could feel was the lingering aftershocks of pain and passion. He rested his head against her chest, so relaxed, even with a split lip and enough scratches to leave his back raw.

As much as she was down with cuddling, she was already pushing as it is. "I'm going to be late if I don't hurry," she said.

"IOU for tonight," Scout said, his voice turned sleepy.

"If you can sneak in the window without tripping the alarm and keeping me up, and can deal with an early morning, you'll get your spooning time," she said.

"Good," he said. He stretched out and yawned. She admired the view as he did, the marks she'd left on him, the purple traces of bruises and lipstick and the scars he'd received in battle. He'd been so determined shortly after they'd gotten together to work out and get stronger to woo her, until she'd informed him she preferred her men on the lean and not bulky side.

She leaned back and tried to catch her breath. Her glasses were knocked crooked, so half her office was blurry. He looked at her tenderly, and pushed them back into place. For a second he just looked at her like no other man had, like she lit the sun in the sky and blinded out everyone else. It took some getting used to, being loved like that. All this time she'd dated distant smart boys who barely gave her a glance over their papers, when the loudmouth mercenary was right there in front of her. Life was strange like that.

He cracked his knuckles, his eyes glassy with the aftershocks of orgasm. The afterglow had finally begun to fade, and the sheer realization of the brazen move she'd just done came to her. She'd literally been seconds away from getting walked in by an assistant. And even now the thought made her feel turned on.

"Oh my God. What the hell are you doing to me? I'm becoming a _danger junkie_. Fighting monsters, getting dragged into bar fights and having sex on my desk?"

"What can I say, I'm a bad boy," Scout said. 

She shifted just slightly, and he reached down for a patch of color on the floor.

He held her underwear in one hand, and her bra in the other. "Missin' these?"

"You have some kind of internal homing device for my underwear," she said.

He snickered. "Hell yeah."

Her heart still beat fast, even after the danger had passed, she felt so _alive_. Even now she was looking at corners, at places they could climb and spend on those short few hours she had free. Miss Pauling had never guessed that she had this side, that the thought of being discovered could excite her or she'd like going straight against a monster with him.

But now that she knew, she'd never been happier. Mentally, she calculated the places they hadn't done it yet as he pulled his shirt back on. Partway through her mental note that the storage closet needed to be organized, it came to her.

"You know, there ain't any cameras in the storage closet," she said.

Scout grinned. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow after hours," she said.

"I'll be there, and there tonight, too," Scout said. He pulled up his pants, and with a devilish grin, leapt right over the desk. She couldn't help but smile as well. Scout never could resist an urge to show off.


End file.
